


My Bartender

by X_avfc



Category: Emmerdale, Vanity emmerdale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 19:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20494025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_avfc/pseuds/X_avfc
Summary: Vanessa tries to avoid Charity at the bar when she’s on a date.Just the one chapter!





	My Bartender

I never expected to see her there, in fact I'd made a point of calling ahead to make sure she wasn't working that night. So, imagine my surprise when I reached the bar and that sinfully good looking nightmare of mine turned to greet me. 

"Fuck," I swore under my breath, glancing around for an escape. She gave me that lust inducing grin and started mixing my drink. The only redeeming thing about seeing her was the knowledge that my martini's would flow like water, and they would be mixed to perfection. 

"Any time, any day of the week Ness, but you know that." She winked at me and one of those long, soft arms slid the purple martini my way. "Hell if you say the word I'll go on my break right now and we can go out back. There is this perfect little stretch of wall I'd like to pin you up against."

"Shut up." I didn't really want her to stop. Part of her charm was all the nasty things she wanted to do to me and just how much she enjoyed telling me about them. Pulling a ten dollar bill from my bra, I ignored the heat in her gaze and that little growl she gave me. "Just please be good tonight," I pleaded. 

Her perfect, green coloured eyes flashed with something darker than lust and I saw her eyebrows rise as her mouth morphed into a frown. "Hot date?" She snapped back snatching the bill from my hand. 

"A first date," I replied quietly, this was exactly why I'd called ahead. Her eyes flicked past me for a moment, returning with that nasty smile that never failed to make me weak in the knees. 

"Well, you look hotter than hell tonight darlin," she folded the bill and reached out to slide it back where it came from. She made a point of tracing the swell of my breasts before pulling back. "I'll be right over here when you're done pretending that you didn't just bring her here to make me jealous. Go on," she urged, "put on a show for me."

I spun on my heel and fled. Not because she told me too, but because I found it impossible to think and even breathe around her. This new woman had been making my life complicated ever since I'd found this place in Emmerdale. She was everything I told myself I didn't want in a woman: too rough around the edges, crass, forward, long blonde, wavy hair - although now it was combed back giving her a slick, edgy look. Basically she'd never be that woman I could take home to meet the folks. 

She still managed to drive me crazy. Often times with nothing more than a whisper, fuck with just a look she could make me putty in her hands. Almost every time I ended up at her bar, my night ended with her. More specifically it ended with me against a wall and then in her bed, screaming her name over and over again. It was shameless.

I, and all of my girlfriends, were convinced she had ruined me for relationships. At the very least, she'd ruined every date that I'd ever had in the last seven years. I'm sure you're asking why I kept coming back...so was I. 

"Hi, are you Vanessa?" The voice that pulled me away from my inner pity party was cultured. The woman it belonged to was every bit the white collar, prep school graduate I had hoped she would be. The disappointed look on her face said that I however, didn't quite meet her expectations. 

""Well, it's a pretty face at least," she muttered under her breath, and it was suddenly my turn to hesitate. It's not like I didn't warn her, I'd never lied about being a little overweight. Hell, I know that I carry it well, so to have her say that felt like a bit of a slap in the 'pretty face'. 

Her handshake was as weak as her chin and I had to force my smile as she sat down and took the time to look around. This was going to end badly, and hopefully, very quickly. My eyes flashed to the bar behind her and I found Charity leaning against it, conveniently in my line of sight. She gave me a look that said she was about as impressed as I was. 

There was nothing to do but cross my legs and smooth the decadent fabric of my beautiful dress. It was always depressing to waste a new dress on a bad date. My date, sighed and looked around for the waitress. Charity licked her lips and suddenly the dress wasn't so much of a waste. 

"I need a drink, I'll be back in a second," my date didn't even bother to ask if I wanted anything before she stood and b-lined for the bar. Charity watched her casually polishing a mug, when she leaned in and said, "Hey, can I get a..." Charity just turned and walked away. 

It was hard to not laugh at the woman’s outrage, especially when my queen in dress shirt and vest headed straight towards me, another martini in hand. She swaggered over to me like a runway model for Hipster GQ. It had been a while since I'd darkened the bar's door, since when had she ditched the grunge band t-shirts and plaid? 

Whatever this new look was, it had a deadly effect on me. 

"Are you done yet?" She asked standing a little too close for comfort. "I don't even know why you play these games anymore." Her shirt sleeves had been rolled up to expose most of her arms and the freckles on them that i knew by heart. Charity put my drink down and nudged my legs apart. 

I didn't hesitate, the heat in her eyes coupled with the disappointment my date promised, made the decision so very easy to make. Obediently I opened my legs, just enough for her to wedge one leg between my thighs, effectively pushing my dress, and the 50's style crinoline up my thighs. 

"What game? You weren't supposed to be here," I replied sweetly. Before you ask, yes I am just as messed up as you think I am. It's almost as if I can't help but push her buttons. I love jealousy on her, while other women treat me like an afterthought, she goes crazy at the thought of someone else touching me. It's addicting. 

"Really?" She asked in undisguised disgust. I followed her gaze back to my date who was now drooling over his 5'4", 110lbs bartender. Charity pinned me with an angry gaze, "You refuse to give me your number, but that you give the time of day?" 

"You only want my number so you can have a booty call whenever your bar-star pick ups don't pan out." My reply was biting and filled with all the jealousy and assumptions I had in regards to her. Yes, I loved the way she looked at me. I craved the way she handled my body, but I wasn't stupid enough to think she wanted me. She didn't even know me. 

It was all my fault. If I hadn't fucked her in the bar cooler less than an hour after meeting her, she might have actually asked me out. We might have hit it off and had some good times together. Now every time she saw me, it was almost a challenge to see how quickly she could get inside me. 

Charity’s reply was a hard, angry laugh that fit the metal head persona she'd carried for so long. "God, you make it so hard to treat you like anything more than some cheap mid-shift fuck." 

That one sentence cut though my bravado and pride like a hot knife through butter. It was almost as effective at destroying my self-esteem as my mother's lecture on the connection between self-worth and body size. 

There was nothing to do but drink. So I downed the glass and held it out to her, my eyes dropping to focus on the silver insignia ring on her left hand. "I'll take another." 

Charity hesitated, taking it and disappearing just as my date decided to reappear. The woman’s frown annoyed me, I decided, watching her with a mixture of boredom and apathy. Just another in a long line of online dating disasters; just one more example of how I was not the kind of girl, girls dated. 

"Do you know that woman," the woman asked setting her Bud Light on the table. It was impossible not to judge a woman who couldn't even drink a decent beer. "Shes an asshole."

"It's pretty much her only redeeming feature," I replied dryly. I could feel Charity’s eyes on me, but wasn't prepared for her to see my hurt yet. And since she could always read me like a book, the only option I had was avoidance. 

My date turned to give me her best 'apologetic' look and I braced myself. The send off was coming sooner than I'd expected. She sighed, "Look, I'm sure you're a great gal and all, but I think both of us know this won't work out."

A glutton for punishment I found myself asking, "And why is that?"

She had the decency to look embarrassed when she said, "I'm kind of out of your league." 

"Get the fuck out," Charity’s voice brooked no argument, it sounded more like a threat, honestly. Which she then clarified with, "And if you so much as look at her again, I'll rip out your throat." 

My date jumped to her feet, red-faced and clearly scared shitless. I couldn't blame her. On a good day Charity resembled a former member of the Sons of Anarchy, in moments like this you wondered how many times she’d seen the inside of a prison cell. 

"You're fucking crazy," She spat back at my defender. "Fucking have her, no one else wants a fatty." Charity's hand pulled back and then connected with the woman’s face. A few seconds later my date hit the floor. 

It might have been flattering on another night, but I'd lost the desire to be a spectacle. As Charity lunged forward to escort/drag my date towards the door, I grabbed my bag and slipped out the back. 

In the safety of the back alley, I lit a cigarette with a shaking hand as I waited for the crowd out front to dissipate. I crossed my arms to ward off the chill, I looked ridiculous, dressed to pinup perfection, hanging out in an alley two feet away from a overflowing garbage can. 

My mother would be so proud. 

"That's a disgusting habit," a familiar, lust inducing voice called out. Glancing up I found Charity only a few feet away. Even with the light behind her and her face cast in shadows I knew the expression she'd have. There would be a fire in her eyes, the same one he had every time she found me after one of our many confrontations. 

"Why do you care?" I bit back taking another drag. 

"I plan on devouring your mouth shortly, and I don't like kissing an ashtray." 

"Really?" I asked in a venomous voice, "Is it mid-shift already?" A part of me wished I could have seen the face to go with that growl, but even in better lighting it would have been impossible. Charity lunged at me, one hand wrapping around the back of my head to cushion the impact as she slammed me into the wall. 

Her mouth and both those hands showed me no mercy as she angled my head to thrust her tongue as deep into my mouth as I would let her. Her hands pulled at my skirt and the front of her pants as she groaned into my mouth, fighting to get closer to me. 

"Fuck you, and these fucking garters," she growled, her fingers slipping under one of the bands, snapping it twice. "I'm going to enjoy watching them stretch out over that gorgeous ass of yours." 

My self control failed me and when she lifted my thigh over hers and lodged her fingers inside me with one unforgiving thrust, I whimpered. Dropping the now forgotten cigarette into a nearby puddle, I ran my hands through her hair and gasped into her mouth, "Harder, please." 

I felt her smile against my lips and that hand wrapped around my leg squeezed me more tightly giving her the leverage needed to pull back and slam into me over and over again. Her fingers felt amazing, like always. Long enough to fuck me in every, seemingly impossible position, and harder than hell for longer than any woman should be able to manage. 

She was unrelenting. Pounding into me and ravaging my mouth until I was clawing at her in desperation. She filled me in a way no one else ever had. After one night of sex I'd been addicted, and no matter how many times I'd tried to quit her over the years, I always seemed to end up back here, lost in the shadows revelling in her touch. 

"That's it Ness," She purred in my ear when my head dropped to nip and suck at the designs on his neck. "You know what I want." My insides fluttered around her at the thought and she chuckled. Her thrusts picked up pace, and I couldn't help but cry out. "Stop fighting," she groaned, "and give me what I want. You know it always makes this better." 

My hands tightened and I bit as her neck, "Charity..." At the sound of her name my lover slowed and the all of the of inside me twitched. "God I've missed the feel of you," I whispered.

"That's it," she groaned again, "don't stop." I smiled into her neck and looked forward to the bruises that would line my thigh tomorrow. 

"No one has ever felt this good inside me," I confessed.

"How long has it been since you had a good fuck Ness?" She asked. My heart clenched and I thought about lying, but Charity pulled back to rest her forehead against mine his slow pace unrelenting. "Tell me how many women you've let inside you." 

Maybe I was too tired to lie, maybe I wanted her to know the truth. Whatever it was I brushed back her hair and said, "It's been what? Five months since we've done this?" 

"Five months, three weeks, and two days," She replied pushing into me again a little harder. 

I closed my eyes and kissed her. "Then it's been five months, three weeks and two days since I've been fucked." She growled and the insane pace I didn't think could last, sped up. I wrapped my arms around her neck and held her to me. "That means It's been five months, three weeks, and two days since I've gone home with your cum dripping down my thighs."

Her mouth latched onto my shoulder and I cried out her name. Her moan was ferocious and it made my heart sing as I felt myself cum with herself inside me. 

Reality came crashing back a little too quickly when she pulled back and I slid back down to the ground. Fumbling with my skirts, my red face dropped, but she surprised me. Cupping my face and bringing my lips to hers, she teased them until I relented and melted into her. 

"It's been too long," she explained, "I couldn't wait. Let's get out of here and I'll count how many times I can get you to cum between here and home." She kissed me once more for good measure and turned to lead the way to the street. It was an easy decision to make and I went willingly. 

In the back of the cab I was so caught up in the hand creeping its way up my thigh, I almost didn't question it when her lips dropped to my neck and she murmured, "Tell him your address." The cabbie watched in the rearview mirror, his eye arching in amusement and lust when Charity’s fingers found my centre and I gasped. My torturer chucked again. 

"Unless you want to wake up tomorrow to breakfast with my mother, I suggest you tell him your address." 

Without a second thought I rattled off the address.


End file.
